


Be the Light

by an9e



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5279183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an9e/pseuds/an9e
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She feels the same way she did that day - angry, confused, grief-stricken.</p><p>She wonders if this has always been the way Rachel - her <i>angel</i> - had made her feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be the Light

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i tried a different writing style from the previous fics i wrote! i usually write pretty descriptive but this one feels a tad bit different somehow? so i hope you guys enjoy it and tell me what you think ;0!!
> 
> i was writing this mostly with [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtJj_XrIYkE) in my head/playing!! the title + some parts of the fic are influenced!! (whispers i lov. e . .. the whole al b um m. ...) also [THIS PLAYLIST!!](http://8tracks.com/pootchi3-987/together-again)  
> you guys should listen to it 10/10  
> AND THANK U FOR THE KUDOS/LIKES/REBLOGS/COMMENTS/EVERYTHING!! ! !! sc re am ss. .
> 
> anyways! that's all i hope you guys enjoy!!

 

 

The light from the setting sun bleeds through the flag draped over her window. The wind flows into the room, but only slightly; the distant sound of birds singing and flickers of torn posters fill the silence in the crowded space. 

 

Her beanie is lying on the floor - Prussian blue on the hardwood bathing in soft red lights, and her jacket is cast to the opposite side of the room - where an old graffiti taunts her endlessly. 

 

She remembers the day the writings made it onto her wall. 

 

* * *

 

_Rachel hadn't been answering her calls, much less reading her messages. There was only one place she would go when she needed to hide from the world; Chloe would know. She could stay in their little world forever._

 

_But that was just her._

 

_Rachel wasn't in their den. She cursed under her breath, panic starting to crawl under her skin. Her eyes wandered the small space briefly before halting at the sight of a neatly placed letter on the table._

 

_Oh, how she loved her handwriting. The way the letters are connected to each other, how the u's tails would curl upwards. She could picture how lightly she gripped the pen, how gently she stained the white paper with blue ink._

 

_If only they weren't made to say this._

 

_Every word she read filled her veins with anger, confusion. Every sentence made her grip the letter harder. She felt the skies in their world crumble and fall around her, she heard the seas roar and the ground underneath her crack._

 

_She wishes the author finished her writing, instead of ending it with violent, aimless markings scrawled over her neat but rushed words. She also wishes she never saw it in the first place._

 

_Chloe rushes out of their little hideout, leaving the crumpled paper behind. She slams the car door shut, grips the steering wheel like she would wring someone's neck._

 

_She stomps her way up the stairs, ignoring her mother's yells, slams her bedroom door closed and plays her music loud._

 

_Loud enough to keep her own thoughts out of her head._

 

'I met somebody recently..'

  
_Chloe feels pathetic. What did she expect? She should have known that everyone in this_ hell _is the same - they were all just liars trying to climb out of their misery. Her father, mother, Max, and now Rachel too?_

 

_But she's a liar too. Maybe this is her punishment for being a burden to her mother, a rebel to her stepfather. Maybe this is her punishment for everything._

 

_Her hands are shaking, and her legs feel restless as she paces her room back and forth, the sound of her shoes hitting wooden floor filling her ears._

 

_She writes a reminder to herself on the wall._

 

'Everybody lies, no exceptions.'

 

* * *

 

This time, there's only tears filling her eyes, and a voice whispering her thoughts into her ears telling her _she can't escape from this_. The bottom of her shoes are muddy, as well as her hands. Her fingers hover above the metal box laying on her bed. Her clouded blue eyes scanning the contents, not letting her own blue-painted nails distract her. 

 

She feels the same way she did that day - angry, confused, grief-stricken.

 

She wonders if this has always been the way Rachel - her _angel_ \- had made her feel. 

 

Chloe thought it couldn't possibly get any worse. It would've been better if her best friend had just gone up and left her to rot. It would've been better if she ended up with whomever that was who changed her life. 

 

Anything would've been better than leaving her forever. 

 

She looks at them, touches them delicately; strips of photos they had taken in a photo booth, an orange feather vaguely matching Rachel's hair color, and a folded photo, only showing the blonde. 

 

If it weren't for these, she would have long forgotten how a smile played on her lips sometimes, and how the color of her eyes resembled the earth.

 

_God_ , she misses her so much. How she would give anything just to be with her one last time. It's such a shame how the last image of Rachel she has is of her fidgeting, hesitant to hand her a single fucking letter. It's a shame how they never got to laugh again after that, never got to stay in their little world before it collapsed. 

 

Never got to tell her how much she loves her.

 

She had thought all her tears were gone when they found her, but she can feel the burn of her tears on her cheek.

 

One drop, and then she's sobbing, curled into herself like her hands are the only ones keeping her together. Forcing her eyes shut because what would the world be without color - without _her_. 

 

So she keeps them closed, keeps her arms wrapped around herself, and her fingers digging into her skin. Maybe if she did it hard enough she would just collapse into dust, or wake up from a horrible nightmare. 

 

But she doesn't. 

  
_Of course_ she doesn't. 

 

She's done this countless times. In her head she had already thought that her dad was still safe, still alive somewhere. Somewhere that was not Arcadia Bay. In her head she thought Max would come back the next day, crying to her saying that she misses her already. 

 

But those were just her dreams. 

 

She dreams again, remembers how Rachel looked like an angel when she smiled. How the sun is her halo and the clouds are her wings. How gently she interlaced their fingers and looked her in the eyes saying, _'You're fine, we're fine.'_

 

How she saved Chloe from her own grief.

 

So she lets her saint save her again. 


End file.
